Coda
by MrsJoyceChilvers
Summary: A short vignette set after the end of the film Quartet (2012), in which Reggie and Jean take the next step.


He looks at her as she stands before him, tears in her eyes with barely constrained laughter. Part of him wants to be incredulous, he'd just kissed and started to undress her, but as her giggles continue, he finds them to be annoyingly infectious. Damn, Jean, damn her and her wonderful sense of the absurd. Naturally she'd get silly about the idea of them making love; why in god's name she'd thought of Wilf at that moment and what he'd likely say once he found about them he'll never know, but she had, and so as he'd begun to undo the buttons at the back of her dress he'd heard her mutter something about them joining the "geriatric sex club", before the laughter just overcame her. On one hand he thinks he should be hurt, after all he's just become re-engaged to this woman, and was about to make love to her – on the other, he finds the sight of her laughing to possibly be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He wants to be serious, he wants this night to be special for them, but as she collapses into him, her arms around him as she leans into his body and buries herself against his chest, still laughing, he can't help but wrap his arms around her and laugh with her

In a way it is absurd – especially in how nervous they'd both been moments earlier (if he's honest, his kiss had been rather cumbersome and tepid). In Jean's case he suspects a certain degree of insecurity about her looks; the last time they'd been together like this, they'd been young. At times their short lived marriage feels but twenty four hours ago, other times, like earlier, it had felt like a lifetime – both suddenly acutely aware of how much time had passed, of how bodies change, and of how things simply don't look as they once had. In a way it pains him to think of Jean, indomitable and goddess like, being insecure about anything, but he can understand why – he feels it too. Perhaps not for the same reasons as she does, but nonetheless he feels a pang of doubt. Not about her and how much he wants this again, but about being a good lover to her – something which he fears his kiss and its awkwardness bodes badly for. He's an old man now, and if he's honest with himself, there's not been many women in his life since things had so bluntly and painfully ended with Jean the first time. He'd hated her for that, hated how she had ruined women for him, how invariably he'd found himself comparing every woman in his life to her, and how all had come up short.

He suddenly becomes aware of her body stilling against his – the laughter subsiding, and as she lifts her head to look at him, he notes that the nervousness has returned to her features. There's an anxiety there – she seems almost girl-like and worryingly small as she murmurs a heartfelt "I'm sorry". He can't help but reach out and gently cup her cheek – his thumb idly caressing along her skin as he simply drinks in the sight of her. He knows she rarely, if ever, shows this side of herself to anyone – Jean is one to hide her insecurities and fears, so he feels even more privileged that she's let him in. In way this is a bigger gesture of intimacy from Jean than the act of undressing – and suddenly he's filled with an overwhelming need to reassure her, to make her understand that whatever she's feeling, she doesn't need to worry. His kiss this time is full of passion and abandon – none of the nervousness of his attempt earlier - and as he pulls her closer, bringing her body as close to his as he can, he hears her softly moan, and feels her arms slip around him again, clinging on to him.

There's no laughter this time as he eases the dress from her body, none when she gently pushes the shirt from his shoulders. The only sounds are the soft moans and the breaths of lovers reuniting – of patience and passion, and the soft sighs of pleasure as they become reacquainted again.

Later, as they lie in bed together, both becoming mildly aware of their joints beginning to ache, he makes out the faint sound of Jean whispering something about not being able to move in the morning. He can't help but smile – it's such a typical thing for her to say. And as he gently pulls her closer, bringing her lips to his for a tender kiss, he finds that he can't resist replying "Well, just so long as Wilf knows it was because of me, and not your hip", which to his eternal delight fills the room with her laughter again.


End file.
